Dirt

Escaping the deliverance of well-meaning friends,

she found her way to the lake,

pearling the edges with the foam of yesterday’s ripple effect.

She sat down to draw her heart

and damn if it didn’t crawl back up her sleeve

into her chest to pound the blackness down.

She couldn’t see. Had gone deaf.

Picked up a stick and began doodling

in the black soil,

found again her soul.

 

~Andrea Mathews

© 2016

 

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